


Something Pink

by gwyllion



Category: Brokeback Mountain (2005)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-29
Updated: 2012-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-05 20:04:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/727379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwyllion/pseuds/gwyllion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was written for the Pride Challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Pink

“Sorry, Ennis. It’s just that I drove all this way and I haven’t seen ya in more ‘an four months,” Jack said, choking the words out, after Ennis’s rejection. “When I got that postcard about your divorce comin’ through, I drove up here as fast as I could.”

Ennis turned away from Jack and looked toward the truck. His two girls smiled at Jack, who gave them an awkward wave. “I was just getting’ ready to take the girls back to Alma,” Ennis said—louder than necessary. Louder than Jack had ever heard him speak, for that matter.

It seemed, to Jack, that Ennis wanted the girls to hear him.

“Won’t be more than an hour or so. You’re welcome to wait here and we can catch up on old times when I get back,” Ennis added.

As soon as the words left Ennis’s mouth, Jack knew that Ennis feared that the girls wouldn’t fall for his acting. He could pretend that Jack and he were nothing more than fishing buddies wanting to reminisce about _the one that got away,_ but the girls… heck _all kids_ …. somehow they always knew. They were intuitive like that. Even Bobby, who couldn’t read a comic book any better than he could read The Grapes of Wrath, woke up before the sun to ask Jack where he was really headed.

“It’s four a.m.,” Jack said, pulling the faded blue blanket over his son’s shoulders. “Go back to sleep.”

Jack looked at the girls again. Then, it was his turn to speak louder than necessary, for Ennis’s sake. 

“Tell you what,” Jack started. “I’ll wait for you right here. Drove fourteen hours to get here, one more hour of waitin’ ain’t going to make no difference.”

“Door’s unlocked,” Ennis said, before he fired up the engine on the old pick-up. 

Jack watched the truck head down the dirt driveway. It was hard for him to tell whether Ennis was happy to see him or not. Ennis really pulled out all the stops in his exaggerated conversation with the girls about the purpose of Jack’s visit. Maybe Jack could be fooled as easily as the girls.

Jack walked up to the dilapidated cabin. There seemed to be no door, the weathered clapboard fading into the next row of equally weathered strings of dried out shingles. Many years had passed since the place had seen a fresh coat of paint.

It seemed like the main architectural focus of the building was a rusty bulkhead. On the right side of the building he found the actual doorway topped by a small set of antlers. He couldn’t believe Alma would let the girls visit this place if she knew what it looked like. He reached for the latchstring. No handle secured this door from the elements, making it like a normal home—like the home Jack had in Childress. 

The door swung open, creaking loudly on its hinges. The entryway was cluttered with debris from floor to ceiling. Bits of hay, loose strands of rope… newspapers… Jack had never seen the likes of any of it in a home before.

There was an open space on the left that led into the main house. There, the drab kitchen featured a table with two mismatched chairs, and a dripping sink that was filled to capacity with dishes. The ice box was a real ice box, but the ice had long melted, and anything the ice box had contained had long since spoiled. Jack held his nose at the rancid smell of decay when he opened the door. How could Ennis live like this, he wondered.

His Ennis.

He figured it was the best Ennis could do with the hit on his paycheck for child support. It seemed unfair, but only just. Ennis was a hard worker, he deserved so much better for himself than this…. this pig sty. More important than that, he needed to provide for the girls. They were getting older and they wouldn’t stand for this kind of treatment for much longer. Friends talked. Friends listened. They figured things out.

Jack wandered into the bedroom. He first saw where the girls had likely spent the night, a small room with a set of bunk-beds, but not much else. The closet door was ajar and opening it wider revealed a stash of clothing, a moth-eaten gray sweater, a couple pair of tattered pants creased and resting on wire hangers for the girls to have a change of clothing for when they visited their dad. Jack felt bad for the girls to be exposed to this abject poverty. They deserved to have a clean place to stay when Ennis brought them out here. They deserved so much more than the sparse quarters furnished by Ennis. Jack thought back to the times he had met them, and the countless stories Ennis had told about the pair.

Jack didn’t think he was much of a Dad to Bobby, but at least he provided for him. The kid always had new pair of blue jeans and a Stetson that Jack replaced faster than the kid’s head could grow.

Jack lowered himself to the bottom bunk, the flimsy mattress giving way beneath him. His back ached from the long ride. If only he could put his feet up for a while, he’d feel better. He’d be able to think about what he could do to help the girls. He lay back with his head on the pillow to wait for Ennis’s return.

From the bed, he could see into the closet. Resting on the shabby horse blanket that covered the bunk, he knew what he would do. In the morning, he’d march Ennis downtown to the Wind River Mercantile to pick out some new clothes for the girls. Maybe something pink.


End file.
